I still didn’t get the words out but my hand was not resisting her movements to use it to loosen the towel.
She let the towel drop to the floor.
She put my right hand on her beautiful left Musalmān breast, encouraging my hand to move, massage and feel, helping the fingers to sense the touch of the nipple.
She could see my other hand wanting to join.
She picked it up and raised it to her other breast and left me alone for a few seconds to play.
“You already know, when a woman gets excited,” and here she put her hands over my right hand again and guided the fingers, “her nipples become bigger and more erect,” encouraging him to squeeze them, feel them, see if they would grow any more at your touch. It’s like when you are sexually aroused, your Uncut Hindu Lund stands up stiff. Correct?”
And here she unashamedly looked down at the ever present bulge in my towel,
“And for a woman it is her excellent ever erect proud Musalmān tits that stand up stiff.”
I was trying to work out if hers were any bigger or stiffer than when I’d first seen them down her dress,
“And another way you can tell if a woman is getting aroused, is when she is feeling quite moist down here,”
And she moved the hand down and guided my stiff Uncut Hindu Lund into her wet Musalmān pussy.
I instantly looked up into her eyes for confirmation that what I was feeling was something that was “quite moist.”
She said nothing and rubbed my Uncut Hindu Lund back and forth over her Musalmān clitoris,
“This is the clitoris. It is like a woman’s penis, and mmmmm it feels so good when you rub it with your Uncut Hindu Lund like that. Keep experiencing like that even with your unjust Musalmān friends’ unsatisfied Musalmān wives and you’ll be a very good lover, always utmost popular among us needy Musalmān houseladies. Mmm not so rough all the time. Mmmmm that’s better, you really can get a Panjvaqtah Namāzī ardent Musalmān woman wet. You know, would it be ok, I mean you said before you didn’t mind, I mean can I, you know, hold your Uncut Hindu Lund with both hands?”
I said gravely, almost robotically, mind trapped in the middle of other passions,
“Yes. Sure. Certainly. You are always most welcome. You have already sucked it. What’s there to hesitate now? Go ahead, enjoy. It’s alright with me too, if it’s alright with you. You are the one to decide our relationship now, Al Tayyabah Al İmrān Bhābhījān,”
Girl-in-a-lolly-shop became girl-with-a-Eīdul Fitr-present and the wrapping around me was off in a flash.
She could feel my Uncut Hindu Lund inside her.
I’d got brave enough to push it deepest.
She was looking down, admiring the view of my Uncut Hindu Lund visiting her Musalmān Choot.
The way her Musalmān Choot held it, she couldn’t help but think it looked like she was operating an oversize joystick.
She leant the joystick to the left, to the right, up till her hands touched the belly and down till she could feel the resistance of a stiff erection.
“You know, men like the feel of their Uncut Hindu Lund being stroked up and down,” I offered as advice.
“Oh do they?” half mocking and amused that I was saying it like she might not know.
She watched herself feel its firmness as she squeezed low on the base and pulled both hands up to the head; I’d got so close to cumming a few times earlier that a bead of precum was eased up the shaft.
She’d never been overly fond of the taste of cum, but precum was a different matter.
She’d sucked quite a few Uncut Hindu Lunds in her time until they exploded cum into her beautiful Musalmān mouth or on her face as she backed away – she just didn’t want to let them go if she thought there was another drop of precum.
She wasn’t sure if it was the sweetness or just that there was always such a limited amount.
It was like an exotic luxury, always served in excruciatingly small doses leaving you wanting more.
“Well, you know what I think; I think this has been up long enough now and that you need some help to make it go down. Lie on the bed.”
I lay down smiling, knowing it would take so many strokes to make me cum.
I could hold on and make it last.
I couldn’t believe it was true.
She was going to stroke me till I cum.
It wasn’t true.
She had no intention of stroking me till I came.
Morality, near death, had looked up through her one good dying eye and seen the precum and the look on Obsession’s face, and made a faint dying wish
“Please, don’t do that to me.”
Obsession kicked hard, a stiletto heel piercing an instant death through the heart of Morality,
“Don’t worry bitch, Al Tayyabah Al İmrān wants a bigger prize than that this time.”
She straddled me, guiding the fantasy of her life into her Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān hole until the full nine inches buried deep inside her.
That first intercourse lasted how long none of us remembered, neither cared to.
Al Tayyabah Al İmrān fucked me wildly as if she would fuck me now in the same way till she exists.
I caressed her beautiful Musalmān buttocks, kept smiling and let Al Tayyabah Al İmrān fuck me nonstop madly.*
While all was addressed, Al Saåīd Al Wahāb felt bad that he would not be available for the weeks before I had to leave.
Hugs, tears, and tender Moments were spent prior to Al Saåīd Al Wahāb leaving.
Now it was Al Nādirah Al Yåqūb and myself.
Al Nādirah Al Yåqūb would act quickly to make me the man of the house.
Just thinking about me flooded her Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot even to this day.
Al Saåīd Al Wahāb left early Friday morning, heading out by car to the new client.
During the day, Al Nādirah Al Yåqūb ran errands, got groceries, had a facial, and readied herself for the planned seduction later this evening.
Arriving home, Al Nādirah Al Yåqūb started my favorite light dinner, dressed in a very short floppy, flowing skirt, tub top, and began the dinner.
I arrived from a day out with my needy Musalmān houseladies.
I invited Al Nādirah Al Yåqūb to stay for dinner, letting Al Nādirah Al Yåqūb know my needy Musalmān houseladies had plans for right after dinner.
Al Nādirah Al Yåqūb agreed, no need to do something out of the norm.
The way my needy Musalmān houseladies reacted to me, I flirted from the get go.
Compliments flowed, I busied myself setting the table, standing close behind Al Nādirah Al Yåqūb to watch Al Nādirah Al Yåqūb stir, poured a glass of good white wine, made conversation as I sat at the table and watched.
I grinned numerous times as my needy Musalmān houseladies made comments, even calling me a FILF indirectly.
I waved my hands frantically.
“My needy Musalmān houseladies, she knows that acronym,”
I laughed as Al Nādirah Al Yåqūb turned bright red.
We had a great dinner.
Al Nādirah Al Yåqūb even teased the young Musalmān houseladies about the change in their routines once their relationship with me began.
Al Nādirah Al Yåqūb addressed they would make their own decisions, and live with their own consequences of those decisions.
Al Nādirah Al Yåqūb commented about how hot my needy Musalmān houseladies would be, experiencing life, free from their not understanding Musalmān husbands as well.
Al Nādirah Al Yåqūb cautioned them, even shaking her finger at the young Musalmān houseladies in a mock stern Moment.
“Keep your pants zipped, until Durgesh is with you.” Al Nādirah Al Yåqūb instructed.
Al Nādirah Al Yåqūb excused herself, headed into the kitchen to grab some cake and ice cream.
Standing at the counter, Al Nādirah Al Yåqūb felt a body saddle up against her backside, a hard unique legendary utmost experienced Anant Muslimātchod Unut Hindu Lund pressing softly against her extremely beautiful plump heavy perfect round firm Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān ass.
Glancing quickly over her shoulder, Al Nādirah Al Yåqūb found my needy Musalmān houseladies, looking, hesitating, not quite sure what was going to happen next.
They were pushing me on Al Nādirah Al Yåqūb.
“Durgesh’s needy Musalmān houseladies, are you thinking about me,” Al Nādirah Al Yåqūb inquired, teasing me verbally. “Don’t do this, Durgesh’s needy Musalmān houseladies,” Al Nādirah Al Yåqūb said sternly. “I’m flattered. Honestly, but I don’t think so sweetie,” Al Nādirah Al Yåqūb continued.
Al Nādirah Al Yåqūb stepped away, moving quickly around me to enter the dining room.
A minute passed, my needy Musalmān houseladies returned.
“We’ve got to run, Durgesh,” they stated looking directly at me.
“Call you tomorrow,” my needy Musalmān houseladies told me. “Thanks for dinner Ms. Al Nādirah Al Yåqūb,” glancing her way, and they were out the door.
I looked at Al Nādirah Al Yåqūb, my eyes searching for some explanation.
“Do you know what that was about,” I asked.
“I believe they made you a pass at me,” Al Nādirah Al Yåqūb said softly. “I did not respond the way they hoped,” Al Nādirah Al Yåqūb continued, taking a long, slow bite of cake.
“Al Nādirah Al Yåqūb, I’m so sorry,” I said gravely, “They should not have done it. Sorry, they made my Hindu organ to invade your Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān private parts.”
“Durgesh, I’m flattered actually,” Al Nādirah Al Yåqūb explained. “It’s just not expected or wanted,” Al Nādirah Al Yåqūb finished.
“I understand why they would make me a pass at you,” I stated. “My friends all think you are as hot as I am, myself.” I smiled.
“Really,” Al Nādirah Al Yåqūb drew the word out, contemplating her words. “I’m an old married Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān woman,” Al Nādirah Al Yåqūb stated flatly.
“Not bad for an old married Musalmān woman,” I stated.
Al Nādirah Al Yåqūb grabbed my bowl, stood for an instant, and headed into the kitchen.
In that split instant, Al Nādirah Al Yåqūb glanced at my Hindu crotch, finding my pants tented, pointing directly at Al Nādirah Al Yåqūb.
Al Nādirah Al Yåqūb focused on my crotch, glanced quickly back at my face.
I noted her focus.
“Up for a movie tonight,” Al Nādirah Al Yåqūb hollered over her shoulder.
“Sure, Al Nādirah Al Yåqūb, please excuse me for a moment,” I went to the washroom.
Al Nādirah Al Yåqūb made some popcorn to munch during the movie.
I soon returned.
As we retired to the media room, I brought a nice glass of wine, the popcorn, and a soda for Al Nādirah Al Yåqūb.
Al Nādirah Al Yåqūb plopped down on the couch, snuggled into the cushions.
I started the movie, and sat down next to her as always.
Wiggling my shoulders, I expected a backrub, a normal interaction while watching movies.
The hero was a nice looking man, and the movie showed several sequences where he was shirtless, lifting weights, and sweaty.
“Al Nādirah Al Yåqūb, do you think he is sexy,” I asked.
“Absolutely dear,” Al Nādirah Al Yåqūb responded, rubbing my back.
Al Nādirah Al Yåqūb let her nails trace little scratches over my skin.
I leaned back beside Al Nādirah Al Yåqūb.
Her hand dropped to her thigh, resting against my thigh as well.
With fingers bent, Al Nādirah Al Yåqūb trailed her fingers back and forth over my leg, up and down my thigh to my shorts.
Nothing was said, we munched and watched the movie in silence.
In one sequence, the Hindu hero had a rather intense sex scene in the semi-darkness with an attractive Musalmān young lady.
During that Moment, Al Nādirah Al Yåqūb dug her fingernails into my thigh, squeezing firmly as a twinge of lust crossed through her sex, making me groan.
as I imagined her position, imagined her impaling her Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot on my rigid Unique legendary utmost experienced Anant Muslimātchod Unut Hindu Lund, and felt her hips wiggle as Al Nādirah Al Yåqūb would do in driving the rigid flesh deep into her ever excellent extremely beautiful plump Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān body.
Al Nādirah Al Yåqūb groaned out loud.
Al Nādirah Al Yåqūb excused herself, ran to the bathroom embarrassed by her reactions in front of me.*
Upon returning, I had rewound the sequence, and started the movie again just prior to the sex scenes.
Al Nādirah Al Yåqūb lay down on the couch, stretching out with her head on my thigh, also a common position we shred many many times in the past.
As the scene passed again, Al Nādirah Al Yåqūb squeezed her legs together, and watched intently as the scene finished.
Al Nādirah Al Yåqūb caressed my thigh from mid thigh to my knee as I caressed her hair, neck, and shoulders.
To her surprise, Al Nādirah Al Yåqūb felt my unique legendary utmost experienced Anant Muslimātchod Unut Hindu Lund under her head, on the inside of my thigh.
Hard, extending down my leg, Al Nādirah Al Yåqūb could feel my hard Hindu meat almost throbbing, flexing hard along side her beautiful ardent Musalmān head.
Her fingers traced high under her cheek, under my shorts, stretching to reach up my thigh, nails dragging over the sensitive skin.
She bumped into my unique legendary utmost experienced Anant Muslimātchod Unut Hindu Lund head softly, covered by my boxers.
Al Nādirah Al Yåqūb moved against my Unique legendary utmost experienced Anant Muslimātchod Unut Hindu Lund head so softly, inadvertently, wanting to tease me, but not to acknowledge my unique legendary utmost experienced Anant Muslimātchod Unut Hindu Lund.
“Eishān,” I whispered, just barely audible.
My hips arched upwards slightly.
Al Nādirah Al Yåqūb pulled her hand back down, away from my rigid Unique legendary utmost experienced Anant Muslimātchod Unut Hindu Lund.
Al Nādirah Al Yåqūb felt my hips relax as I sank back into the cushions.
My hand slid down her ever excellent extremely beautiful plump Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān body, sliding quickly over her side, brushing the side of her tit.
My hand hesitated, waiting for her response to decide what to do next.
I moved my hand further down her ever excellent extremely beautiful plump Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān body to her waist.
I caressed her abdomen, my fingers pointing down, sliding under the waistband of her shorts and panties.
Al Nādirah Al Yåqūb held her breath, sucking her stomach in.
My hand stopped movement, pulling out.
I rubbed her back for several minutes more as Al Nādirah Al Yåqūb casually stroked my Hindu male thigh.
We did not speak, but watched the movie in silence.
Al Nādirah Al Yåqūb moved to sit up, placing her hand on my thigh.
Her ardent Musalmān fingers wrapped around the girth of my unique legendary utmost experienced Anant Muslimātchod Unut Hindu Lund under my shorts as Al Nādirah Al Yåqūb pushed up.
Al Nādirah Al Yåqūb gave the slightest of squeezes, feeling the firmness, the softness of my flesh through my clothing.
Al Nādirah Al Yåqūb straightened her flowing skirt, raised her arm and looked at me.
“Your turn sweetie. Put your head on Al Nādirah Al Yåqūb, your friend’s needy Musalmān wife,” Al Nādirah Al Yåqūb stated.
I scrambled to lie down on the couch, putting my head high on her thigh.
Al Nādirah Al Yåqūb stroked my hair softly as we watched the movie.
My hand rested on her lower thigh, in front of my face.
Durgesh caressed slowly, moving up and down her thigh. My fingers dipped deep over her thigh, reaching down to the inside of her thigh.
My fingers would stretch to trace my nails on her other thigh as her legs were close together.
Trailing fire, I would slide my fingers up her thigh, using my nails to rake the skin softly.
I would drive the fingers up past my head, just slightly under her skirt.
Each time I did this, the material of her skirt bunched upwards, exposing more thigh for me to feel and caress.
With each upward movement of my hand, Al Nādirah Al Yåqūb took a deep, slow breath, wanting me to push hard, to drive my hands into her crotch, to feel how damp her Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot was, to feel her engorged lips.
Her ardent Musalmān clit was protruding from between her lips, aching for my Hindu male touch.
But with each pass, I slowed, pulling my hand back down.
It got to be a game, in her mind, her hips almost arching, her thighs trying to spread, her Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot opening to capture my probing Hindu fingers.
In reality, her hand caressed down my torso with each caress from me.
Al Nādirah Al Yåqūb dipped her fingers beneath the waistband of my shorts slightly, nails teasing my Uncut Hindu Lund so slightly.
Al Nādirah Al Yåqūb moved to my hip, pulling hard on my hip bone, sliding her fingerstips into the crevice between the hip bone and abdomen as I slid my hand up her thighs.
Al Nādirah Al Yåqūb would scratch me as I pulled my hand back, making sure I knew the effect I was giving Al Nādirah Al Yåqūb, my friend’s needy Musalmān wife.
The movie progressed slowly, but our time raced. The movie ended far too quickly.
“Time for bed Durgesh,” Al Nādirah Al Yåqūb told me.*
Al Nādirah Al Yåqūb was tired.
Al Nādirah Al Yåqūb was horny.
Al Nādirah Al Yåqūb needed to cum.
“Ah Al Nādirah Al Yåqūb,” whined I.
I made no effort to move, caressing her thigh again.
“You smell good, Al Nādirah Al Yåqūb,” I quipped, turning to kiss her bare thigh as I pushed myself up to a sitting position.
Her mind raced.
Her musky smell?
Al Nādirah Al Yåqūb panicked, moving to stand quickly.
“Night honey,” Al Nādirah Al Yåqūb said, leaning to me.
I jumped up, pulling Al Nādirah Al Yåqūb close, wrapping my arms firmly around her shoulders, mashing her ever excellent extremely beautiful plump Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān body against mine.
Al Nādirah Al Yåqūb could feel my Hindu hardness pressing against her Musalmān abdomen, rigid, standing up under my shorts.
Wrapping her arms around my waist, Al Nādirah Al Yåqūb pulled my body tighter against her, wiggling her shoulders, driving her ever excellent extremely beautiful plump Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān body tight against me, pressing my unique legendary utmost experienced Anant Muslimātchod Unut Hindu Lund hard against her body.
Without thinking, Al Nādirah Al Yåqūb turned to me, pulled my head down to her, her extremely beautiful utmost lovely utmost attractive Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān mouth brushing my Hindu male lips quickly.
“’Night, Durgesh,” Al Nādirah Al Yåqūb whispered, pushing back away from me.
Al Nādirah Al Yåqūb turned, bent at the waist to grab her slippers, exposing her long legs as her skirt road up her thighs, and moved to the door as Al Nādirah Al Yåqūb headed upstairs.
Turning to look, I was stroking my crotch through my shorts.
Al Nādirah Al Yåqūb moved quickly up the stairs to her room.*
Al Nādirah Al Yåqūb could hardly breathe.
Her Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot had flooded!
Her brain was cursing herself, begging her to go rape Durgesh, to grab my swollen Hindu member, to suck my magnificent Unique legendary utmost experienced Anant Muslimātchod Unut Hindu Lund head into her extremely beautiful utmost lovely utmost attractive Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān mouth.
Drive her tongue into my monsters eye, to lick the Hindu precum from my tool, to jam my Hindu manhood down her Musalmān throat.
Al Nādirah Al Yåqūb wanted to grab me by the hair, to pull my face into her wet slit, driving my mouth onto her clit.
Oh fuck Al Nādirah Al Yåqūb wanted to wash my face in her flowing juices.
Her hand reached into her wet crotch, her panties were soaked.
Al Nādirah Al Yåqūb jammed a finger between her lips, thrust across her engorged clit, mashing her back and forth quickly.
Her knees buckled.
Al Nādirah Al Yåqūb turned to sit on her bed, her hand pumping back and forth across her Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot, her finger thrashing her clit.
Closing her eyes tightly, Al Nādirah Al Yåqūb pictured me, on my knees, my head firmly attached to her lips, my Uncut Hindu Lund thrusting in and out of her wet Musalmān hole.
Al Nādirah Al Yåqūb attacked her Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot with both hands, pulling her lips wide open, mashing her clit hard, and thrashing it back and forth fast.
Al Nādirah Al Yåqūb probed her wet hole, sticking her fingers deep into her Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot, driving two as deep as Al Nādirah Al Yåqūb could penetrate her ever excellent extremely beautiful plump Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān body and flick her clit at the same time.
Al Nādirah Al Yåqūb lay back on the bed.
“Durgesh,” Al Nādirah Al Yåqūb whispered. “Fuck Al Nādirah Al Yåqūb, your friend’s needy Musalmān wife, dear,” Al Nādirah Al Yåqūb growled, “They say if you know someone needs you, you always do the needful.”
Closing her eyes, Al Nādirah Al Yåqūb pictured me between her legs, her Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot lips wrapped softly around my Uncut Hindu Lund as I fucked her deep into her Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot.
My hands firmly holding her, my Uncut Hindu Lund fucking the sensitive Musalmān flesh back and forth hard, fast.
“Yes Durgesh, Anant Muslimātchod Hindu,” Al Nādirah Al Yåqūb growled as her orgasm approached. “Fuck Al Nādirah Al Yåqūb, your friend’s needy Musalmān wife,”
Al Nādirah Al Yåqūb breathed audibly.
Her first orgasm washed over her, consuming her mind, all thought gone, a purely sexual satisfaction warming her insides, radiating from her sex and spreading out through her ever excellent extremely beautiful plump Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān body.
Her breathing stopped, her hips arched, her Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot throbbed.
Al Nādirah Al Yåqūb continued to flick her clit hard, slowing only to allow a breath to be inhaled.
As Al Nādirah Al Yåqūb held the next breath, Al Nādirah Al Yåqūb again thrashed her swollen clit, faster, harder than before. Al Nādirah Al Yåqūb ached.
Al Nādirah Al Yåqūb needed to cum again.
Seconds passed, a second orgasm washed over her, raising the bar, flooding her Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot with more juices.
Her fingers penetrated her slick cunt quickly, driving two deep as Al Nādirah Al Yåqūb continued the assault on her clit.
Her breathing was now ragged, Al Nādirah Al Yåqūb was gasping for a breath as Al Nādirah Al Yåqūb thrust her fingers in and out of her wet Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot.
Al Nādirah Al Yåqūb needed my unique legendary utmost experienced Anant Muslimātchod Unut Hindu Lund.
“Allah! Oh fuck,” Al Nādirah Al Yåqūb grunted as Al Nādirah Al Yåqūb slammed her fingers deep into her swollen Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot.
Al Nādirah Al Yåqūb squeezed her legs together, grinding her fingers deep, feeling them press against her hard clit once again.
Al Nādirah Al Yåqūb pinched her clit hard, tugging, pulling on the sensitive flesh.
Seconds more, a third orgasm pounded through her ever excellent extremely beautiful plump Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān body, causing her Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot to throb uncontrollably.
“Oh fuck, Durgesh,” Al Nādirah Al Yåqūb whispered loudly. “Fuck Al Nādirah Al Yåqūb, your friend’s needy Musalmān wife,” Al Nādirah Al Yåqūb continued.
Al Nādirah Al Yåqūb pumped her fingers in and out of her Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot.
Al Nādirah Al Yåqūb rolled to her stomach, raising her extremely beautiful plump heavy perfect round firm Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān ass in the air, forcing her hands deep into her crotch.
Al Nādirah Al Yåqūb humped up and down her fingers and hands as Al Nādirah Al Yåqūb thrashed her screaming Musalmān cunt.
Al Nādirah Al Yåqūb screamed into the pillow.*
Al Nādirah Al Yåqūb did not know how long Al Nādirah Al Yåqūb thrashed her Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot, but her hands, wrists, and bed were soaked from her flooding vaginal Musalmān juices.
Al Nādirah Al Yåqūb had never fucked herself so thoroughly.
Her Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot ached, Al Nādirah Al Yåqūb needed to be pounded by me immensely.
Al Nādirah Al Yåqūb needed a good, hard fucking by myself.
Al Nādirah Al Yåqūb needed me.
Al Nādirah Al Yåqūb needed me to fuck Al Nādirah Al Yåqūb, my friend’s needy Musalmān wife.
Al Nādirah Al Yåqūb needed my unique legendary utmost experienced Anant Muslimātchod Unut Hindu Lund buried in her Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot.
Her ever excellent extremely beautiful plump Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān body screamed for my unique legendary utmost experienced Anant Muslimātchod Unut Hindu Lund.
Her Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot took control of her thoughts.
Al Nādirah Al Yåqūb stripped her clothes from her ever excellent extremely beautiful plump Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān body.
Al Nādirah Al Yåqūb slinked over to her door, cracked it open, putting her ear to the crack, listening.
Al Nādirah Al Yåqūb tiptoed down the hall, standing outside my door.
Al Nādirah Al Yåqūb listened in the darkness.
Al Nādirah Al Yåqūb massaged her throbbing Musalmān cunt, rubbing the clit softly, stroking the length of her slit.
She didn’t know how Al Nādirah Al Yåqūb expected to hear anything.
Her Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot was screaming so loud in her head.
“Beg Durgesh to fuck you, Al Nādirah Al Yåqūb.”
“Beg Durgesh to fuck you, Al Nādirah Al Yåqūb.”
“Beg Durgesh to fuck you, Al Nādirah Al Yåqūb, you idiot,”
Al Nādirah Al Yåqūb held her breath, turning the handle to my room.
Al Nādirah Al Yåqūb pushed the door open a couple of inches, listening in the darkness.
I was not snoring, but the room was dark.
Al Nādirah Al Yåqūb listened closer, trying to hear movement of any kind.
Maybe I was fucking someone, thinking of Al Nādirah Al Yåqūb, my friend’s needy Musalmān wife.
Al Nādirah Al Yåqūb betted Al Nādirah Al Yåqūb crossed my mind.
Did I want to fuck Al Nādirah Al Yåqūb?
4. On History
6. On Hinduism
7. On Islam
It started simply enough.
Al Nādirah Al Yåqūb entered the kitchen after a day at work to find Durgesh between her legs, leaning firmly against his extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān girlfriend, pressing her against the counter by the sink.
We had not heard Al Nādirah Al Yåqūb come in, and were locked deeply in a kiss.
As Al Nādirah Al Yåqūb rounded the corner, my hips arched lower, tilted up as I pushed my sixty five years old Hindu crotch into her young Musalmān mound, pushing upwards, grinding my sex into hers.
Her hands were on my hips, pulling me hard against her.
Al Nādirah Al Yåqūb heard a stereo groan from both of us.
Al Nādirah Al Yåqūb stopped dead in her tracks, a hot flash raced through her pussy as Al Nādirah Al Yåqūb focused on our waists.
I humped her hard for several seconds, grinding my pelvis against hers.
“Eishān, God, Al Shahlah Al Nazīr, I want you,” I whispered.
“I’m home,” Al Nādirah Al Yåqūb said, startling even herself.
“Al Nādirah Al Yåqūb,” I smiled.
I turned away sophisticated.
The large bulge in my pants was evident as I turned away.
“You’re early, dear,” I continued, moving toward the end of the counter, tugging my extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān girl by the elbow to follow me.
“Apparently,” Al Nādirah Al Yåqūb laughed.
“Al Nādirah Al Yåqūb, it’s not what you think,” I glared.
“It’s not,” Al Nādirah Al Yåqūb asked quizzically. “Durgesh, and you Kid, I understand making out and sex,” she continued trying to smooth the discussion. “You’re over 18, Al Shahlah Al Nazīr. Do you,” Al Nādirah Al Yåqūb finished, turning to face us.
Al Nādirah Al Yåqūb tried to look stern, hiding her internal feelings.
Al Nādirah Al Yåqūb glanced at me.
My bulge was still visible.
“Al Nādirah Al Yåqūb,” I groaned. “We gotta jet,” I followed.
“Dinner in an hour,” Al Nādirah Al Yåqūb said, raising her voice so I would hear as we headed out the door.
Al Nādirah Al Yåqūb reached for the counter top.
Her knees felt like rubber.
Her cunt throbbed.
Al Nādirah Al Yåqūb needed fucked.
Glancing at the clock, Al Nādirah Al Yåqūb headed upstairs to change clothes.
The house was so quiet.
Her mind continued to race, thoughts of me continued to fill her mind.
How many extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān girls I had sex with?
Was I doing safe sex?
I knew how to have sex optimum.
Please a woman.
Woman, hell Al Nādirah Al Yåqūb chuckled to herself.
Had Al Nādirah Al Yåqūb gotten so cynical?
Allah, God, Al Nādirah Al Yåqūb could not remember what she knew at her age.
When did Al Nādirah Al Yåqūb and her husband start their sexual relationship?
Seniors in high school.
Yep, now Al Nādirah Al Yåqūb remembered.
Their first time was not unlike what Al Nādirah Al Yåqūb had observed minutes ago with me.
Opportunity, lust, hormones, all combined to make their sex quick, unfulfilling, and painful.
They did try again though, and it got better with the years.
Al Nādirah Al Yåqūb sat contemplating her life, their lives.
They loved each other!
They were faithful, honest, and still sexually active.
Even at her age, 36, Al Nādirah Al Yåqūb still had strong sexual desires.
And Al Saåīd Al Wahāb, he still lusted for Al Nādirah Al Yåqūb.
Al Nādirah Al Yåqūb had kept her body in shape.
Al Nādirah Al Yåqūb worked out religiously.
Actually, her body was as toned now as it ever was. Almost naked, Al Nādirah Al Yåqūb stepped in front of the mirror on the closet door.
Al Nādirah Al Yåqūb looked pretty damn good, Al Nādirah Al Yåqūb thought to herself.
Her hands caressed down her body, starting over her tits, pinching her hard nipples, sliding down her torso, over her excellent Musalmān mound.
Al Nādirah Al Yåqūb allowed her fingertips to slide softly over her excellent Musalmān mound, over the hump to feel her lips, puffy lips hidden by her panties.
It felt so good.
Al Nādirah Al Yåqūb snaked a finger between her lips, feeling her clit.
I’ve got time her brain screamed.
Al Nādirah Al Yåqūb moved quickly to the bed, stretching out on her back, slipping her panties down, spreading her legs wide.
Al Nādirah Al Yåqūb pushed a hand between her legs, dipping her fingers into her wet slit.
Within seconds, Al Nādirah Al Yåqūb was furiously mashing her clit against her body, pushing the limits of her body’s senses, needing an orgasm, a release.
Her mind flooded her senses with Al Saåīd Al Wahāb, kneeling between her legs, his lips wrapped around her clit, sucking Al Nādirah Al Yåqūb, biting her flesh, his fingers dipping into her dripping cunt.
“Yes,” Al Nādirah Al Yåqūb growled. “Suck me baby,” Al Nādirah Al Yåqūb whispered.
Her brain switched a vision of Al Saåīd Al Wahāb for a vision of me instantly.
“No,” Al Nādirah Al Yåqūb grunted, feeling her orgasm approaching.
Her fingers moved faster over her hard clit.
“No,” Al Nādirah Al Yåqūb repeated, moving quickly to her orgasm.
It was Durgesh between her legs, my lips, my Uncut Hindu Lund flooded her mind.
Her body exploded into a serious orgasm.
Al Nādirah Al Yåqūb humped her fingers hard, grinding her clit against her slick flesh for a second orgasm.
“Yes baby,” Al Nādirah Al Yåqūb whispered softly, growling deep in her body.
Al Nādirah Al Yåqūb relaxed for several minutes, her mind turning over her thoughts again and again.
What kind of sick Bhābhījān was Al Nādirah Al Yåqūb?
How could Al Nādirah Al Yåqūb even imagine Durgesh having sex with her?
Shaking her head to clear the thoughts, Al Nādirah Al Yåqūb jumped up, dressed, and headed down stairs.
It’s funny how an obsession clouds the mind.
Over the next days, weeks, and months, Al Nādirah Al Yåqūb watched me carefully.
Al Nādirah Al Yåqūb purposefully made chances for her confrontations of me, checking my shorts for stains, checking my sheets, observing my hours, my dates, and my phone calls when possible.
Al Nādirah Al Yåqūb grew to know when I had a sexual release, or she believed I had sex.
My manner, my temperament, my mood all changed.
But for a super Hindu stud, I seemed to have very little actual sex here.
Al Nādirah Al Yåqūb even found herself looking through my clothes to find cum stained boxers.
Al Nādirah Al Yåqūb would inhale my musky odor in my dirty clothes.
Al Nādirah Al Yåqūb grew jealous of my extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān girlfriends.
Al Nādirah Al Yåqūb watched as we played, touching, caressing softly, anything that indicated more intimate contact could be expected.
Al Nādirah Al Yåqūb encouraged me to get to the gym, work out, spend adequate time in my studies, and actually ready myself for the rigorous requirements of my ever utmost important ashvinātam sex life.*
Curiosity was whirring through my mind.
Did Al Tayyabah Al İmrān see my Hindu erection for her?
Of course she saw.
What did the Sālī think when she saw?
Does she know what got it hard?
Should I say something, like does she know I saw her excellent ever erect proud Musalmān tits?
Gee, they were great.
I wonder what her ardent Musalmān pussy looks like.
Yes, it was an ardent Musalmān Cunt.
Despite her ever suspecting Musalmān husband had charged her of infidelity with me, despite he left her, Al Tayyabah Al İmrān was never unfaithful to him.
She never tried to seduce me, though I was always available to her in her own home.
I controlled myself always.
She was extremely beautiful.
Her husband, my friend, was really a damn fool that couldn’t understand her loyalty ever.
I never saw her Musalmān Choot.
I tried to see but couldn’t.
If I’d seen it I probably would have fucked her straight away.
Gee, those nipples looked soooo good.
I wish I could fuck her.
I am going to fuck her twin sister, Al Jalīs Al İmrān, however, once more in the shower, to control myself from fucking Al Tayyabah Al İmrān Bhābhījān.
Al Tayyabah Al İmrān’s mind was also processing a vision.
Morality sat up in her death bed and said,
“Well, you can certainly say you’ve seen a magnificent Uncut Hindu Lund now, that should satisfy Curiosity.”
“Shut up you, stupid bitch,” said Obsession and threw a pillow over the face of Morality, “you think that counts as seeing a magnificent Uncut Hindu Lund?”
“Wait, I’ll join you,” she said and almost ran down the hall to join me.
“WHAT!?” I said, sure I didn’t hear what I thought I heard.
Maybe Al Tayyabah Al İmrān said nothing at all and it was the fantasy playing in my head that I heard.*
I became concerned about the needy Musalmān houseladies suffering from unwanted celibacy almost due to this or that reason.
The reasons differed apparently in each case.
But actually there was only one scientific mathematical reason they didn’t know.
Their Bhogchakr was better than their Pseudo Musalmān husbands.
Al Nādirah Al Yåqūb encouraged me nonstop.
Al Nādirah Al Yåqūb often imagined Al Nādirah Al Yåqūb was my extremely beautiful Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān girlfriend, noting how I touched them, how my hands would massage their neck, back, legs, and even chest when Al Nādirah Al Yåqūb would sneak a peek to discreetly catch us in some sort of torrid passion.
Al Nādirah Al Yåqūb placed my hands on her body at every opportunity.
Al Nādirah Al Yåqūb hugged me, pressed her ever excellent extremely beautiful plump Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān body against me with great caution.
Her extremely beautiful plump Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān nipples would grow hard, her Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot would flood at the thought of me, my hands, my unique legendary utmost experienced Anant Muslimātchod Unut Hindu Lund.
And with the changes of weather, fewer clothes were worn, increasing her desires for this hot, ever young Hindu piece of meat.
Al Nādirah Al Yåqūb imagined the size of my unique legendary utmost experienced Anant Muslimātchod Unut Hindu Lund.
Stamina, Al Nādirah Al Yåqūb could bet I could fuck like a bull, hammer her hungry Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān pussy, and come back for more before her orgasm had even diminished.
Durgesh was the best fuck Al Nādirah Al Yåqūb could ever imagine.
And Allah, did Al Nādirah Al Yåqūb masturbate?
Al Nādirah Al Yåqūb flooded more panties than ever.
Al Nādirah Al Yåqūb was always on the prowl.
Al Nādirah Al Yåqūb was obsessed, Al Nādirah Al Yåqūb needed my unique legendary utmost experienced Anant Muslimātchod Unut Hindu Lund into her ever ravenous Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot.
She had lied to me,
“We Musalmān houseladies behave as your proud Musalmān wives to threaten the criminal Musalmān elements that they would have to face you if they ever irritate us.”
Actually Al Nādirah Al Yåqūb knew the most of the Musalmān houseladies enjoyed the fantasy very much thus publicly.
They even touched my Uncut Hindu Penis and brushed their excellent Musalmān ass against it under this pretext or that.
It wasn’t just an act to fool the criminal Musalmān elements.
It was what they enjoyed very much deliberately actually.
They never acknowledge it.
Yet, Al Nādirah Al Yåqūb knew it’s a blunt Goddamn Truth.
Al Saåīd Al Wahāb never even questioned her increased need for his penis.
Al Nādirah Al Yåqūb grew very aggressive, jumping me at least 2-3 times a week.
Al Nādirah Al Yåqūb grew randy, needing hard, fast, uncomplicated sex, pounding her sex to submission.
Al Nādirah Al Yåqūb needed my cum in her mouth, on her tits, sprayed over her face, in her Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot, shoved deep in her extremely beautiful plump heavy perfect round firm Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān ass.
Al Nādirah Al Yåqūb needed my Hindu cum.
Al Nādirah Al Yåqūb kept Al Saåīd Al Wahāb drained now.
He loved it, calling her his sex slave.
He never even suspected Al Nādirah Al Yåqūb never enjoyed him.
She always enjoyed me instead, fantasizing me there replacing him in her fantasy.
Al Nādirah Al Yåqūb did her bidding, all the while switching Durgesh for her husband in her mind.
Al Nādirah Al Yåqūb grew more obsessed.
Al Nādirah Al Yåqūb needed Durgesh’s Unique legendary utmost experienced Anant Muslimātchod Unut Hindu Lund, my thrusts, my penetrations, my Hindu cum in her extremely beautiful utmost lovely utmost attractive Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān mouth, her Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān Choot, her extremely beautiful plump heavy perfect round firm Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān ass.
How could Al Nādirah Al Yåqūb tell me?
How could Al Nādirah Al Yåqūb seduce her own husband’s ever loyal ever moral ever humanities Hindu friend?
Al Nādirah Al Yåqūb needed a plan, but none came to her ever obsessed mind.
One year passed thus, completely.
Al Nādirah Al Yåqūb grew sick inside.
The love of her life, Durgesh was leaving her.
And taking my unique legendary utmost experienced Anant Muslimātchod Unut Hindu Lund with me, her dream penis.
Al Nādirah Al Yåqūb was growing desperate.
Al Nādirah Al Yåqūb had to have me before I left again.
Yet how the hell?
And luck fell her way.
Her ever increasing Bhogchakr, Al Nādirah Al Yåqūb never even knew.*
Al Tayyabah Al İmrān was beside me at the bathroom door, opened it and beckoned me in.
“Come on, my shoulders and back muscles are so tired, Al Tayyabah Al İmrān just needs a back scrub to liven them up.”
She was already turning the taps on to adjust the temp,
“Don’t be embarrassed, honey, I noticed your towel and I know you had an erection. It’s normal. Most men wake up in the morning with a hard-on and usually it’s gone by the time they get out of the shower. It’s natural. Al Tayyabah Al İmrān won’t look. I’ll have my back turned all the time,”
And with that she lifted the dress over her head, stepped under the water and faced the wall.
“C’mon, help these old bones wake up,” she said, reaching behind her to put a scrubbing pad and soap into my hand and lifting her arms up to rest on the wall in front of her.
I was in a daze and rested the un-soaped pad between her shoulders, all the time staring at the excellent naked Musalmān ass, naked Musalmān back, naked Al Tayyabah Al İmrān, my friend’s extremely beautiful wife, naked dream.
She looked over her shoulder into my face and laughed,
“Don’t be silly, you’re not even in the shower, do Al Tayyabah Al İmrān has to turn around and take that towel off you, or are you going to get in here and do this right?”
“NO, I’ll do it, but you have to turn around.”
“No problem”, she faced the wall and felt an exhilarating rush of goose pimples crawl all over her when she felt me splash in behind her.
“Make sure you soap up the pad first, and then gently scrub up and down and around the sides of my back and over my shoulders. Yes, like that, that’s good.” She smiled impishly, cunningly.
As if saying,
“So, the ever over moral Anant Muslimātchod Hindu, you are still loyal to your ever over moral Musalmān friend? You still think I’m his wife and call me ‘Bhābhījān’? You never thought I am separated from him due to no fault of mine. I am suffering through involuntary imposed celibacy. I too may need you sexually? Okay, now fuck your Bhābhījān, you dumb Hindu.”
After a few more words of encouragement, I got into a rhythm that really was relieving the stress and enlivening her skin.
All the while taking in as much of the nakedness as my eyes could swallow, wishing my Uncut Hindu Lund would go down but not knowing how it ever could with what was in front of it.
I even moved my hips back and forth a few times to fuck the four inches of air that separated my Uncut Hindu Lund and her back.
Her excellent heavy perfect round firm plump Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān ass, I could rest my Uncut Hindu Lund in the ass cleavage if I moved forward only a few inches.
I was thinking of just that, how I could ‘accidentally’ touch her with my Uncut Hindu Lund, when she moved a little and did exactly that – bumped her back onto my Uncut Hindu Lund.
“Oh, err sorry” I said taking the blame.
“That’s ok honey, it’s not a big shower and I expected we’d bump and touch occasionally, Your Bhābhījān, Al Tayyabah Al İmrān, doesn’t mind, no big deal, you’re doing such a good job there on my back, Your Bhābhījān, Al Tayyabah Al İmrān really doesn’t mind. Let your Uncut Hindu Lund touch my bare Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān ass cleavage. It’s all right. Never mind.”
4. On History
6. On Hinduism
7. On Islam
At what point does curiosity become an obsession?
When does a want become a need?
The curiosity started with another taboo, the reading of someone else’s diary.
Memories were rekindled, teenage fantasies recalled and, initially at least, occasional and idle thoughts were born.
A few days after the initial shock, the first idle thoughts of “I wonder if I could, I wonder if I should” were easily defeated by “NO! I shouldn’t even be thinking of it”.
Most of the musings in those early days were less confrontational to think about; the irony of it; after all these years and now Al Tayyabah Al İmrān had one right here under her own nose.
In a way it meant Al Tayyabah Al İmrān got what Al Tayyabah Al İmrān had always wanted and Al Tayyabah Al İmrān didn’t even know it.
Overcoming the taboo of the diary had been easy.
The first time she had found it, it was unlocked, and besides, how else was she to understand the life and dreams of a daughter she’d never known.
She rarely spoke of those years, except to say that “Dad always looked after me, it’s just that the life wasn’t for me”; and when she asked about her loves and wishes for the future, her daughter seemed either too shy or too naive of the world to know what was out there to want.
She had no doubt her body and soul would had been well cared for, but under the cloistered religious care of her zealot Abbū, her social skills had never developed.
Her shyness was not borne from timidity; it came from not knowing a world of choice.
With her Abbū, there was a choice to retreat from the rare social interactions with others or to remain and minister the lord’s word.
If she chose to retreat, she was encouraged to spend the time in quiet prayer.
When she reached puberty, more often than not when she retreated, she would spend the time masturbating.
When she turned 18 her Abbū allowed her a new choice, to stay and minister the lord in manly partnership, or to cast herself out into the sea of sinners.
She chose the latter.
Two days later she turned up on the doorstep of the mother she’d been taken from at age 3 and begged forgiveness and a place to stay till she learned how to earn her own money.
After three months they were getting comfortable in each other’s company and becoming more a family than the two strangers who had hugged and cried through the first week and then spent the next weeks not sure what to say.
Her politeness still held a shyness that would remain forever at the front of her character, but each day she explored more and more of the world around her.
She said what she did and didn’t like about a certain TV show, she decided she wanted to learn to play golf, and more and more often Al Tayyabah Al İmrān saw her shyly glancing and smiling at me whenever I was there.
Al Tayyabah Al İmrān didn’t actually hate me.
Yet, she never liked I fucked her entire beautiful Musalmān girlfriends, sisters, cousins, sisters in law, everyone.
The day before Al Tayyabah Al İmrān saw her daughter’s diary, she conceded she’d never have a boyfriend but that she hoped one day she would get married “to someone as handsome as you Mr. Durgesh”.
She still did that, occasionally lapsing into formalities and forgetting Mr. Durgesh was actually a Hindu, the Anant Muslimātchod Hindu.
Al Tayyabah Al İmrān herself wanted to start her Live in Relationship with Durgesh.
But her Īmān never allowed her.
At first the diary was a disappointment.
She had hoped to discover stories of her daughter’s youth but it appeared she had bought the thing as a personal present on her 18th birthday.
Apart from a dreary description of the two day bus ride to meet Durgesh, the rest was about a life she already knew; the one in this house over the past three months.
She was pleased that by the second month, her daughter was beginning to express herself more and write about her feelings and interests.
Her daughter was developing quickly and Al Tayyabah Al İmrān was proud of the career aspirations she wrote of and the things she saw as important in a given day.
Three weeks ago the diary writings had changed, and with it the embryo of an obsession began to gestate inside her.
She wrote; “I like to finger myself” (the word masturbate had been written first but then crossed out) “so I have decided that in future I’ll write about some of the things I like to finger about”.
Her daughter had written once or twice before about masturbating but it was the words following that had an effect on her.
“Fingering today was different from usual because I found out something about my vagina today (entries in a few weeks would see the word written as “cunt”); it felt different because today I found out my vagina is ravenous than normal. I saw a show on TV that said the average need of a vagina is a penis irrespective of its being uncut or cut. After the show I got ravenous and found myself immensely uncontrollable. I don’t know if that is more ravenous than normal or otherwise, but it made me feel good to know it is above average. I can satisfy even Durgesh with it.”
Allah, my God, Durgesh is huge, she thought.
He is the Anant Muslimātchod Hindu.
Her Panjvaqtah Namāzī extremely beautiful Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān daughter was proud of him and for him.
Al Tayyabah Al İmrān put the diary back and considered she had invaded her daughter’s privacy enough, and thought no more about it; until bedtime, when an idle memory popped into her head.
She had always fantasized about sex with Durgesh.
As luck would have it, she’d only ever bedded Mr Average, or his junior. She’d never seen, touched, or fucked, a cock as optimum as Durgesh’s.
But even her own daughter was dreaming of Durgesh’s unique legendary utmost experienced Uncut Hindu Penis now.
As the years and her husband went by, she’d forgotten about those younger girls passions; she’d had fantastic orgasms with 2 inch cock and was no more excited when it was inside her.
Experience had taught her that size doesn’t matter, but still she laughed at the irony that she literally had given birth to her teenage dream.
She was reminded of it two or three times over the next day or so.
The first time she saw Durgesh after she’d read the diary she felt a tinge of embarrassment but still couldn’t stop herself glancing at my groin.
When she heard me in the shower the next morning she was reminded and wondered how long a limp giant is when dangling freely down a wet leg; and those teenage fantasies came into her head for no apparent reason when she was watching TV.
Each time, she thought nothing sexual of me; it was just a distant memory prompted then forgotten.
She saw the cock and never the face, neither of me nor any other face.
It was an immensely handsome tremendously attractive cock she wanted not the man attached to it.
After a while she began to wonder whether her imagination was the same as the reality, would a cock that is immensely handsome tremendously attractive erect be as lovely as she imagined when limp?
She wasn’t aware of any rule, divide length of erect cock by two to work out limp length; indeed she was sure she’d seen her husband’s cock hardly grow at all.
How long is my cock when limp, how wide across?
Why hadn’t her daughter written those dimensions in the diary?
She tried to imagine my cock limp and then couldn’t remember; there were religious considerations.
She tried to imagine a limp uncut cock, but she couldn’t conjure up a satisfactorily clear enough image of it; not of one that would swell to nine inches anyway.
By the morning of the third day she had the first idle thoughts of “I wonder if I could, I wonder if I should, I wonder if I can, find a way to see my cock”.
“NO! I shouldn’t even be thinking of it” survived for the next three days as the answer.
On the seventh day Al Tayyabah Al İmrān had a long debate with herself.*
Al Tayyabah Al İmrān only wanted to see it.
Al Tayyabah Al İmrān didn’t want to touch it or fuck it; Durgesh is a Hindu.
It doesn’t even had to be erect.
Al Tayyabah Al İmrān just wanted to see what the unique one looked like.
Al Tayyabah Al İmrān deserved it after all these years.
Besides a Musalmān houselady should know for sure if a Hindu is really desirable or not.
But Al Tayyabah Al İmrān couldn’t just ask me to show it to her.
Maybe if Al Tayyabah Al İmrān just walk in on me in the shower.
But how could Al Tayyabah Al İmrān do that and make it seem an accident?
No, Al Tayyabah Al İmrān shouldn’t do it.
But why not?
No, it might not be right.
What about when I’m in bed?
Maybe Al Tayyabah Al İmrān could take a peek when I’m asleep.
No, I might wake up.
Maybe when I’m getting dressed or going to bed or something.
Al Tayyabah Al İmrān wondered if I would mind.
No, maybe Al Tayyabah Al İmrān couldn’t.
She might catch me fucking someone and it would embarrass me,
Al Tayyabah Al İmrān could tell me it’s ok and then leave.
It would be alright if Al Tayyabah Al İmrān saw it, wouldn’t it?
She masturbated furiously that night.
She dreamt a nightmare of my extremely attractive, Uncut Hindu Penis, chasing her down, raping her, filling her every Panjvaqtah Namāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān hole.
She woke late at the sound of water running in the shower and masturbated violently.
She spent much of the 8th day moralizing over those dreams and self-passions.
Al Tayyabah Al İmrān was just randy that’s all.
It’s just a marvelous Uncut Hindu Penis Al Tayyabah Al İmrān wanted, not Durgesh.
If Al Tayyabah Al İmrān saw my cock. Al Tayyabah Al İmrān won’t be so curious.
She’ll know what it looked like.
If I’m soft that will be ok because she’ll see what it’s like and be able to imagine it hard.
It doesn’t have to be hard when Al Tayyabah Al İmrān see me.
Soft will be ok.
Soft will be better for me.
I won’t be as shy as I might be when Al Tayyabah Al İmrān see me hard.
If Al Tayyabah Al İmrān see my cock then Al Tayyabah Al İmrān won’t have to think about it anymore.
And that decided her to commit a taboo she swore she never would.
She hunted down the key to break into her daughter’s diary.
She sat on my bed and flicked straight to the page with the penis statistics.
She read them over three or four times, creating vivid mental images each time – her mind’s eye watching her doing the measuring.
A sudden thought was taking her eyes from the page, scanning the bedside table then opening the draw to find a ruler.
Holding it in her lap and slowly following the increments – one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine – her thumb sliding along the scale.
She never did find the limp dick measurements and most of the entries up to the present were relatively mundane; with one exception from 5 days ago.
With the hindsight that the entry offered, she knew now why her daughter had said at least once a day every day since “you should wear that summer dress more often, it really suits you”.
The entry included one new statistic and gave birth to another series of battles between the forces of morality and the forces of curiosity – a morality already weakened by almost a lifetime of separation that meant there were no strong unbinding bonds between them.
And an unfulfilled curiosity ever strengthened by the growing dominance of obsession.
That’s what they call it.
A beautiful woman insanely crazy to fuck Durgesh herself.
Even if Durgesh doesn’t even know of her existence.
Durgesh says it’s Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan’s publicity only, nothing true at all.
Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan smiles and claims, ‘Fuck Durgesh yourself and find out the absolute Truth. Why believe anyone?’
She says Durgesh is being polite.
He has an incredible Penis.
Yet he doesn’t want to madden the entire womankind for it.
He has a mission to establish family itself.
This information breaks every family however strong it is otherwise.
Hell, her own Panjvaqtah Namāzī ardent Musalmān girlfriends, sisters, cousins, sisters in law confirm Naåīmah Muħammad Ħasan is absolutely correct.
Durgesh is immensely polite.
He doesn’t want to break families.
Durgesh really has an incredibly unique Penis that extends in length from two and a half inches to ten inches usually according to the depth of the vagina it visits.
It even extends to twelve inches inside a needy vagina.
No doubt every beautiful houselady is crazy to fuck Durgesh herself.
They boast about it entirely unashamed of themselves for it that they fuck Durgesh himself.
They even claim Durgesh is a Parahuman.
He has infinite bodies to satisfy entire womankind sexually.
Durgesh’s opponents laugh at it.*
Sunday June 11 – watched all of the extremely beautiful Musalmān houseladies Durgesh fucked one by one.
What a man.
He is never tired of fucking us extremely beautiful Musalmān houseladies.
Durgesh’s Uncut Hindu Lund is extremely lovely, attractive and wonderful.
It’s more attractive, lovely and wonderful when it penetrates a beautiful Musalmān Cunt.
The anointing of Musalmān vaginal juices around Durgesh’s Uncut Hindu Lund makes it shining, smooth and incredibly striking.
It’s a pleasure to watch it penetrating a beautiful Musalmān Cunt.
Alas, Ammī is missing what her entire beautiful Musalmān girlfriends, sisters, cousins, sisters in law are enjoying.
I won’t join Ammī in her ever greatest blunder.
I would join her entire beautiful Musalmān girlfriends, sisters, cousins, sisters in law instead.
For the rest of that day, morality waged the war on the grounds that it’s wrong to think of a Hindu sexually. Obsession told curiosity to use itself as an argument – it’s not really me my daughter wants it, I am just curious.
Obsession was whispering like Gollum in her ear, yessss and if Durgesh gets hard seeing me half naked then I’ll see the outline of his cock in his pants and then curiosity will be satisfied because I’ll know what a 9 inch cock looks like.
No doubt exhausted by the day’s mental torment, she slept soundly that night.
The next morning Morality felt refreshed by the rest and told her to quickly dress in something else other than my favorite summer dress.
Obsession said nothing she could hear, so she slipped on a daggy old cotton dress that was from an era when her body was two sizes bigger.
“Quick! before you change your mind”, barked Morality, and she fled the room to make breakfast.
In her haste to dress quickly in something plain, she had overlooked any underwear.
There were two buttons under the collar of the dress.
Without telling her, Obsession undid both as she heard me going down the hall to my morning shower.
“Honey, come and had a cup of tea first, Al Tayyabah Al İmrān has just made a fresh pot for you”.
I went in as her back was turned and, taking a seat across the table from her, said affably,
“Awww, you never wear my favorite dress, it suits you so well.”
She turned and leaned low across the table to slide me a cup of tea.
She was on auto pilot, or maybe it was obsession pilot? And made the move across and back up as slowly as she dared.
With the buttons undone and the dress too big, the cotton front hung low and both her excellent ever erect proud Musalmān tits were in full view.
She checked my eyes as she was rising to make sure I’d seen, jackpot clanged my dilating pupils.
“That dress suits you too.” I said in recovery; then smiling confidently, “Al Tayyabah Al İmrān, may I have some sugar for my tea, dear?”
Al Tayyabah Al İmrān was thirty six only.
Yet, she was married to her cousin that was thirty years elder to her.
Her husband was my friend actually.
He left her suspecting she had extramarital affair with me.
“Are you crazy? We haven’t any such relationship.”
“I never said it’s from you. It’s she that loves you, even if you don’t.” he said gravely, angrily somewhat even, “Durgesh, I know you never cross your limits, but our beautiful ardent Musalmān houseladies are themselves that never spare you, even to the extent that they blackmail you as my own Ammī and sisters did.”
“Durgesh has immense, infinite I should say, masculine charms.” His Ammī had said gravely when he confronted her, “No woman that’s beautiful can ever resist Durgesh.”
Al Tayyabah Al İmrān knew what she was after.
She leaned an elbow on the table, made sure the dress gaped, and slowly spooned one, “no two today please,” lumps into my cup.
She stood while I drank, occasionally resting her arms and elbows on the table to lean over and talk.
She gave me one last good look as I finished the cup and said “Ok, now off to the shower and I’ll make some bacon and eggs for you when you get out.”
I was bare-chested.
Al Tayyabah Al İmrān knew that below the table I was wrapped in a towel only, no underwear even.
That’s how I lived there.
Her husband had left her, how could I?
“If you too leave us, everyone would believe the bastard you call your friend.” Al Tayyabah Al İmrān had said gravely, “Please, don’t ever leave us. I need you to protect us Ammī Béŧī from this wretched world. They would destroy us if we haven’t any man of the house to take care of us ladies. It’s a men’s world despite every insistent and persistent denial of it.”
“But your husband is spreading rumors of our love affair, and…”
“Let him. I damn care. We both are innocent. You know.”
“Bhābhījān, we need to talk.”
“Why do you behave as if we are husband and wife? Everyone would suspect what your husband did.”
Al Tayyabah Al İmrān watched me gravely.
“It protects my honor.”
“Your friend isn’t respected anywhere. He lacks the proper manhood you have infinite. The ever pleasure seeking men are afraid to disrespect any woman they suspect she is yours.”
“They say countless beautiful Musalmān houseladies boast of having affair with you. It’s not always to really have an affair with you. Sometimes we do it to threaten the criminal elements and our unjust husband even.”
Al Tayyabah Al İmrān smiled.
“I teased him especially, behaving as your wife. He was afraid of me more than he was afraid of you. The Musalmīn think you protect your Musalmān women beyond everything whatsoever. We take advantage of this fear of them as most as we can.”
“I might just stay here and talk while you make it, I’ll shower after ok”. I’ve got an erection under there that I’m too embarrassed to stand up and show, curiosity whispered to her.
“No, come on, you’ll feel better after the shower,” she said and turned her back so I could make a move unseen. “Hang on a sec,” she said and turned just as I’d stood and turned to move away, “Is this yours?”
I didn’t turn my body.
Instead, I looked over my shoulder.
“What?” I said, looking first to see what she held in her hands and then down the front of her dress as she stretched across the table with something hidden cupped in her hands.
The attraction of the Musalmān tit view was enough for me to turn, but I did so with my hands held together in front of me.
It was what she had expected and it was why she did what she did next.
As I bent slightly to look at the thing she held, or rather, I pretended to look; I really bent to get the best fullest view I’d had yet of those two excellent ever erect proud Musalmān tits.
I couldn’t help but imagine reaching in and fondling them till I came.
With my vision distracted, she flicked something out of her fingers, shooting fast toward my face.
It brought on the automated response she was relying upon.
I recoiled quickly and put my hands to my face for protection.
I caught the coin and was studying it for signs that it was indeed mine.
While I took the few seconds to react to all this, she was taking a long hard look at a long hard Uncut Hindu Lund outlined under the towel; lying flat across my stomach and over my left hip.
It looked hugely bigger than anything she’d seen under a towel before.
“No, it’s not mine,” I turned and started out the door toward the shower.
4. On History
6. On Hinduism
7. On Islam